


Watching

by Thassalia



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Dirty Talk, F/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-07
Updated: 2016-03-07
Packaged: 2018-05-25 05:00:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6181261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thassalia/pseuds/Thassalia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For part one of feldman's prompt: Three Avengers, Three Kinks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Watching

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Frog in a Blender](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4279791) by [feldman](https://archiveofourown.org/users/feldman/pseuds/feldman), [Thassalia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thassalia/pseuds/Thassalia). 



Steve Rogers likes to watch. 

Maybe it’s the artist in him. Maybe it’s the years of being a small, scrappy mouthy kid, hanging with a guy who could charm even the primmest girl out of her panties. Maybe it’s being a tactical leader, needing to observe so closely in order to figure out who should do what, and when and where and why.

Or it could just be that the boy scout gets off on voyeurism, although Maria doesn’t think so. At least, it’s not simply that. Steve’s not actually that much of a boy scout, although he’s unlikely to give a name to what he likes or really acknowledge it as a variation on the norm. He’s been enthusiastic about sex, but weird about progressing to it. He wants to fix her dinner, take her dancing, do something as prelude. That’s great. That’s lovely, but sometimes Maria has a limited schedule. And sometimes she’s 21st century randy and wants to get the 20th century boy’s pants off without wining and dining him.

But he’s been a quick study (inexperienced, not unexperienced and blessed with an active imagination and operational knowledge), and Maria is patient from more than a decade of spycraft and personnel management. Steve is hardly the most frustrating case she’s dealt with. She’s debriefed Romanoff and Barton after all, and they all lived to tell about it. She’s willing to drink a beer and talk about Game of Thrones before getting to it, but there’s something to be said for just seeing, wanting, fucking.

Maria’s had hints that watching turns him on before, lying in bed one night as he talked about being a young man with Bucky, going to the movies with dates, and turning to see a flash of stocking and bare thigh, hands where they shouldn’t really be, a low pleased moan from Bucky, and how he’d kept the image with him as he’d gotten a polite handshake at the end of the night instead of a smooch or a little bit of warm, pretty girl in his arms.

Maria’d had to tease out the details, but the telling had reddened his cheeks even as it had clearly turned him on, and when she’d tried to play around, pressed her breasts against his chest, and whispered, “Did it make you feel like a naughty boy,” he’d just raised an eyebrow, rolled her onto her back, and said, “No, just horny,” and had spread her thighs and slid home like everyone’s All American, so fair enough.

A few nights later, he’d been agitated as they took the train to dinner. Tuesdays were team meeting day, so she figured it had just been a difficult discussion, but he huffed out a breath, whistling through his teeth, and said, “Thor and Dr. Foster. Couch in the common area. No one in that Tower seems to wear underthings.”

Maria stifled a snort. Sure, there were days when the Tower was like a game of sexual Clue - who was doing what to whom in which room- and it was true that Thor was very comfortable being observed, life as a king must do that to you, and Dr. Foster just didn’t care that much. Everyone had walked in on some inappropriate making out. This, apparently, had been a little more vigorous.

Dinner ended up being hot dogs on the grill at her place and dessert became a series of lessons in giving good head, which answered her question about just what he’d seen, and so far, Rogers continued his run as a star pupil.

Despite those incidents, when Steve comes into her office and shuts the door, sits down, cheeks flushed and a little twitchy, her first thought is still fallout, not fucking. 

“Steve?” Maria actually gets up, goes to put her hand on his forehead in the only maternal gesture she’d admit to knowing, and when he wraps his fingers around her wrist, his grip is hot and his eyes are glassy. Her eyes flick down to where he’s shifting in his chair, and can tell by the delightful tightness of his pants that he’s aroused.

Interesting. (Well, delightful and interesting).

“They’re trying to kill me,” he says, swallows hard. Maria keeps her hand on his head, moves it to his hair. He’s sweating a little, like he jogged here down the stairs instead of taking the elevator and he smells like truth and justice and grass clippings and Old Spice, and damn if that isn’t a turn on. She takes a step closer, and says, “I’m guessing this isn’t a literal death threat.”

Steve, who has to sometimes be reminded that putting a hand on her ass is not going to offend her, provided context and situational appropriateness, actually puts his hand on the back of her knee and then slides it up, just a little, under her skirt with intent.

“Well, fuck me,” Maria thinks. It’s been a, relatively, slow day. What she says is, “Wanna tell me about it?”

He swallows hard, and nudges her closer to him. She steps between his legs, curious to see how far this will go. They’ve never held hands in public, neither of them comfortable with demonstrations of physical affection in a relationship that has no defined terms outside of friends and fucking. Maria is a careerist, even if she’s working in the private sector now, and Steve is literally defined by his military ranking. They’re not public people. This is a divergence, and while it’s fun, intriguing even to see him shaken out of his normal prudence, she’s unbearably curious to see which unacknowledged penchant is driving it.

“All day,” he says, “Everyone in this goddamned tower is like a dog in heat.”

That seems really unlikely, or at least unlikely in a public setting. She finally gets the story out of him - he’d started the morning by walking in on Pepper and Tony before the team briefing, saying a private goodbye before Pepper went back to Malibu for a week. It was just soft, wet, kissing, and a lot of words, faces close, legs pressed together, the rustle of fabric, and Maria is starting to get that it’s not so much that Steve just likes to watch, he likes to imagine. He likes the spaces in between–the flashes of skin, the fingers a little too out of sight, the gasping breath. Steve came of age when girls wore stockings and lipstick, gloves and hats and pretty dresses, and while plenty of sex was happening around him, it was subtle, quietly advertised, pinups and coy looks, and exploits were stories, couched in kindnesses and euphemisms. Steve was raised in an era of protocols and rules, and the kink was the bending of them, even subtly.

For all his appearance, his public persona, Steve got off on breaking the rules, his way. Steve got off on the possibility inherent in the bends.

He hadn’t thought much of internet pornography, but Maria thinks modern burlesque might make him come in his pants like a teenager. Steve likes the tease, and that was what had finally gotten to him today. He’d been hurt, initially, when he’d realized that he was the only one who didn’t know about Banner and Romanoff and Maria had reminded him, with minimal patience and an assload of amusement, that you were dealing with a world-class spy and a man so reserved he sometimes forgot that what he was saying in his head wasn’t actually coming out of his mouth. They weren’t likely to broadcast their sex life. Until, of course, they did in order to tease each other, which, according to Steve, they’d been doing for days.

Maria raises an eyebrow, and strokes the back of his neck and thinks about closing the blinds to her office. Would corrupting Captain America in her office be unprofessional? Or simply her duty as a patriot?

“How can you tell?” she asks him, and presses her knee to the inside of his thigh.

“I can just tell,” he says, and sounds so agitated that Maria decides patriotism it is, and that it’s time to lock the door and close the blinds. When she’s accomplished that, she goes back to Steve and tugs him out of the chair, walks him back to the wall. Maria is not afraid to press an advantage. Or flesh.

Steve is flexing his hands, and has this frustrated smirk on his face, and Maria reaches out and cups him. He’s hot and hard, doing obscenely lovely things to his khakis, and he makes a startled noise, happy and abrupt, that sounds a lot like he’s enjoying himself. She thinks, “Maybe he’s getting it, playing this kind of game.”

“I think I need details,” Maria says, but gives him a break, unbuttons, and unzips him, and reaches into his military grade boxer briefs, running her fingers along his smooth, blazingly warm cock. She can smell his arousal, rich and musky. Her mouth waters a little with want, with the textural, sensual experience of fisting his cock in her office in the middle of the day.

He puts his hand on her hips, and his head back against the wall, looking a little dreamy, grinding into her grip. “It’s hard to describe,” he says. “Just…they’re my team. I know how they work. I don’t know what they’re playing at, just that they’re playing. Romanoff was standing a little too close to him, kept fiddling with her zipper. Banner kept taking off his glasses, using long words, deflecting Stark, being more of a smart-ass.”

“Steve, I think you’re overreacting.”

He shakes his head, and he’s twitching in her hands, and he’s sliding his own clever fingers up around her ribcage, thumbs gentle along the underside of her breasts.

“They were in the kitchen later,” he says, “just doing nothing, standing at the counter. I’d gone to get a glass of water, and saw them, and I stopped at the door because he was so close to her, kind of to the side, half behind her and I couldn’t hear what he was saying, but I could see her face start to get pink. Then she gave this little nod, like she couldn’t help agreeing, and she bit her lip like he was touching her, and all that time, he was just standing behind her, maybe his hand was on her waist, maybe not, but he wasn’t…they weren’t fucking, they were just… I don’t know what he was doing but it was getting her off. I could just tell…”

“Why didn’t you leave?” she asks, breathy, because she knows the answer even if he doesn’t. He pulls her close enough so that her hand wrapped around his cock is trapped between their bodies. “Did they see you?”

“I think Banner did, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything but what he was doing, and then he said something else and she glanced up and saw me, and I swear she just smiled. He kept talking for a second and then he got very close to her ear, like he was pressing up against her back, and she kind of gasped, and then he just walked away, while she stood there.”

It’s undeniably hot, hearing Steve narrate this thing he thinks he’s witnessed, and she’s gotta admit, the idea of talking someone into orgasm is pretty fucking sexy, but it proves her point. The key to Captain America’s dirtier side is to leave space in the middle, to let him imagine the best, not see the worst.

She pushes down his shorts and trousers, and finally he seems to realize that his ass is bare to the wall, and he pulls up his head, and looks at her, bright and glassy, and says, “Can you take off your panties?” so polite, that she’s happy to oblige. Then he’s slickly reversed their positions and Maria finds herself hiked up around his smooth hips, the thick hot cock sliding inside her, getting fucked into the wall. 

She’s a tall woman, strong and supple, and he’s holding her like it’s nothing, and it’s incredibly sexy in an action movie kind of way, but Maria’s always been a sexy action movie kind of girl, and the pounding and the broad strong hands cupping her ass, and the fact that Steve Rogers has finally broken some internal rules to get off because he watched his friends and colleagues navigate fucking/not-fucking in public is not something she’s going to question.

He’s grinding his hips in the way he knows she likes, and she’s got a hand between them to really rev herself up, and Steve finishes his story between grunts. She can feel the little tremors that mean he’s near to coming, and she’s surprised he’s got any bandwidth to still talk, but he says, cheery as all get out. “Finally, Romanoff walked out as well, and when she walked by me, even though I’d ducked back out into the hallway, she just said “Say Hi to Hill.”

Maria gets the angle and pressure right and Steve thrusts, and hits her g-spot and she comes with a nice, sharp burst, and some rolling aftershocks, and Steve holds her ass tightly, small jerking motions that finish him off because he’d waited for her, and he presses her body into the wall as she lowers her legs, and tucks him back in and smooths out her dress, and finally, Steve kisses her, and tucks a stray piece of hair behind her ear, and says, “So hi, Hill.”


End file.
